


Story From the Future

by Baknami



Category: Castlevania (Cartoon)
Genre: Character Study, Gen, Prophecy, Sypha-Centered
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-19
Updated: 2019-08-01
Packaged: 2019-08-26 00:58:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16671745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Baknami/pseuds/Baknami
Summary: Sypha has grown up memorizing the Story from the Future, the one about the Sleeping Soldier under Gresit.  Ever since she was a child, she's hoped to be part of the Story...And yet, there is probably more to the Story than the Soldier or Dracula, and what will happen to Sypha after everything's done...?





	1. First Impressions

**Author's Note:**

> Mannnn, all I wanted were some Sypha-centric stories. Most of the ones about Sypha are like "OH MAN LOOK AT THAT TREVOR'S HOT BOD" and it's like, okay, sure, whatever, but I want something that's a little more about *Sypha* and not just sexual tension.
> 
> And well... as they say, if you want something, you gotta do it yourself!

The small tribe of twelve Speakers arrived in Gresit just as Targoviste fell to Dracula's hordes, and they immediately set themselves to prepare for the Hunter that was to appear. He would assist them in locating the Sleeping Soldier, and together, the Soldier, the Hunter, and the Scholar would find a way to destroy the hordes and save Wallachia. So said the Story from the Future.

Sypha had volunteered to search for the Soldier; she was the only woman of their group who could cast magic, and everyone silently acknowledged that they knew it could only be a woman who could fulfill the very last of the Story.

Unless the Hunter themself was a woman. _Possible_ , but unlikely. “I can do it, I'll be fine,” she told her grandfather as she raised her hood. “Perhaps he heard the Story too, and I will find him on the way.”

“Stay safe, Sypha,” her grandfather pleaded, reaching out to take her head and kiss her on the temple. “We will wait for your news here.”

She stood at the doorway, and glanced back at all of her friends and family. “Well then, I'm off...!” ...and she was gone.

* * *

 

Sypha was panicking. She couldn't move and she was trapped in her own mind and she couldn't even fathom what had happened. One moment she was spinning in surprise at the torches that lit up on their own, without her fire, and the next she was looking into the eye of a strange, hideous beast, and now... now...!

_Move! Move your arms, blink, speak, flail, SCREAM!_ She pleaded with herself, her tears even refusing to come. She couldn't cry, scream, or even see; absolutely nothing responded, and she found herself going mad in frustration and fear, trapped in her mind as she was. She was going to die; she just _knew_ it!

The worst part of this was that she knew that her people couldn't come rescue her. She was the best of her small clan, and if she had failed, then there was no way they could succeed. No one was going to come to save her, which meant that the Story would never be completed, and Dracula's hellish armies would tear apart all of humanity. Everyone in Wallachia would die, and it was _all her fault_! If only she had been more careful, this wouldn't have happened! _Someone, please, help me! Help me_!! She would have called out to the Christian God if she had even hoped for a moment he wouldn't just spit in her face in reply!

It proceeded to get _even worse_ when she felt something slimy prod inside her psyche, running its filthy hands all over her mind and feelings and _Let Me Go I Will Burn You Alive, Monster!!_ But the feeling of having her mind violated by the creature that turned her to stone like this would not leave, and she felt a downward spiral of depression and loathing and rage and-

Something pulled it away. She couldn't see anything, but the presence left as quickly as it appeared, and Sypha took that brief moment of respite to try to gauge what she could do, if anything. She had to stay sane. She had to believe that there was something she could do to escape. Magic was all about exerting her intent upon something else; if she  _ willed _ it hard enough, she might be able to break the spell and...!

Sypha couldn't really feel anything, as even her nerves had been turned to stone, but some small part of her _knew_ that her stone body rocked a bit, as if something had clambered all over her, and she gagged internally, completely destroying her concentration. What was that!? It better not have been a giant rat or a lizard-man or something incredibly horrific! She would have had chills running up her spine if she could _Move A Muscle At All_!!

The ground rumbled, and Sypha could feel a tingle in her feet from the shock wave. ...That was funny, she shouldn't have been able to feel anything, especially not the fact that she was _falling over oh god no wait no please don't fall please don't_...!

She felt something (some _one_?) catch her, and the next thing she could feel was her heart thudding in her chest, her blood throbbing in her temple, her brain screaming in pain, her hands and feet tingling as her brain tried to reach out to them and finding them _gone_ , and now...

Her eyes fluttered open... and she stared up into the face of a human (thank goodness it wasn't a monster...!) Her lungs burned, and she took a deep breath of precious, beautiful air...

...The corpse mold of the catacombs, combined with the rancid smell of piss, blood and beer, assaulted her senses so hard (and so strong, given the fact that she hadn't been using her senses for who  _ knew _ how long...!) that her stomach couldn't handle both the stone and the stench, and she thrust the horrid creature away to properly throw up in a corner.

She was saved by that filthy man, and after he explained what the monster who assaulted her was, she quickly came to the conclusion that only a Hunter could have been skilled enough to take it down so effortlessly.

A Hunter.  _ The _ Hunter, if she had to guess. She glared daggers at the back of his head as he walked off nonchalantly, and she felt her stomach twist back into knots. If she hadn't just thrown up, she probably would have done so right there.

* * *

 

Sypha hated watching her grandfather attempt to keep Trevor Belmont (The Hunter, of course) in the city long enough for he and she to find the Sleeping Soldier, for she couldn't bear to think of following him _anywhere_ , (especially downwind, _woof_.) 

Plus, there was the fact that the more she knew about him, the more she felt that she wasn't sure she even _wanted_ the Story to be fulfilled. “He's rude, and a ruffian, and he smells, and he can't _possibly_ care for anything other than himself.” How were they going to expect him to do anything but watch and laugh while they all died? Surely, there must be someone else...!

Her grandfather sat down next to her with a sincere smile, “I understand what you're saying, my dear. May I tell you something?” Sypha looked up, her expression skeptical, and he placed a hand on her shoulder, “Belmont was the one who saved me from a couple of church priests.”

“I  _ know, _ Grandfather...!” Sypha said, trying not to roll her eyes. Just because he helped  _ one _ person didn't mean he was up to helping thousands!

“ _ And _ , dear, he only was willing to assist us when we said that you were my grandchild.” Sypha looked up, squinting her eyes in confusion, and her grandfather let out a small chuckle at her bemused expression, “I have a feeling he cares more for family than he lets on. He's lost family too, and he doesn't wish that same fate on others.”

The last of the Belmont line. He lost family too. She clutched her hands in her lap, wringing them and ordering herself to continue being angry.“...Does that really excuse his behavior?” she asked, making a displeased scowl. She couldn't let his sob story make her ignore his poor attitude. If the Story was true, then...

Her thoughts were interrupted when she felt her grandfather wrap an arm around her shoulders and shake his head at her frown. “Far from it. ...But, perhaps he understands what it is like to lose something precious. There is a chance he will do what needs to be done, for the Story to be told.” He stopped for a moment, and he pulled back to rest his hands in his lap, peering at Sypha as she stared at the floor, her brows creased in thought. “Sypha, you know you don't have to do this, either.” Everyone had a choice, and no one should ever be forced to do anything they didn't want to. “...The Story shall be told, with or without you. If you wish it, we will find another way.”

“No!” Sypha said, a little too quickly, and she looked up at her grandfather. When he cocked his head expectantly, she shook her head and explained, “If we waited for someone else, more people will die. I can't let that happen. This isn't just about me,  _ or _ my feelings.” The lives of the people of Wallachia depended on them. She  _ had _ to do it. She didn't have a choice.

She shook her head once again and smiled reassuringly. “I'll do it. I'll drag him down into the bottom of the catacombs by the ear if I have to, but I'll do it...!”

The elder chuckled again, before taking his granddaughter's head and kissing her temple. “My brave girl, you have all of our thanks.”

Sypha accepted the loving gesture with an appreciative croon, but it still couldn't remove the pit that had formed in her stomach...

* * *

 

The battle for Gresit, as well as finding the Sleeping Soldier underneath the city, was all nearly unfathomable for Sypha, so much so that when that damned fool Belmont tried to kill the one from the Story, she just stood there, mouth agape. It hardly mattered that he was a vampire, to be perfectly frank; the Story had said that they would find the Soldier, and they found this vampire, so he must be the Soldier! How could the Hunter be so daft!?

Not only that, but he was already whipping out his weapon (no pun intended!) and attempting to murder the only man capable of assisting them in defeating Dracula! She could hardly believe that the hunter was still raring to go after falling for so long;  _ she _ was so out of breath, she just had to watch the entire fight while gasping for air.

By the time she managed to catch her breath, she winced and saw Belmont fly across the room, a victim of a well aimed punch by the Soldier, and the vampire crossed the room to tear out the Hunter's throat...!  _ No, wait, No!! _ As much as she wanted to believe in the Story, and the Soldier, she couldn't let him kill the man who had saved her life, either. She may not be particularly  _ attached _ to him, but she wasn't going to let him  _ die, _ either!

It was her fire that saved the day, and Belmont's life. When the three of them separated from each other and everyone calmed down (mostly because it was now  _ Trevor's _ turn to be winded), the Soldier introduced himself as  _ Dracula's son _ , Adrian “Alucard” Ţepeş, and he seemed pleased at the thought that Sypha was prepared to kill him, for some strange reason. Perhaps he wanted to make sure that she would be willing to do anything to finish off Dracula, even if it meant going against the Stories she was raised on.

And speaking of Stories... “I have heard the stories of the Sleeping Soldier,” he said stoically, something Sypha assumed he was wont to do. “Do you know the whole story?”

Sypha froze at the question. She had memorized the entire Story long ago, kept it close to her heart, and wished dearly that she could be a part of it. She blushed bright red at the thought of what that might entail, but it didn't stop her from stammering out her acknowledgment. She heard Alucard's version of the Story, the part that most people knew of, and Sypha pursed her lips, unsure whether or not to explain the rest of the Story to the others.

Luckily, Belmont began whining about how much he hated being used, not just by the Speakers, but by people in general, and Sypha was happy enough to defend her people rather than continue the Story.

 _This is it_ , she thought to herself as Trevor wound his whip and Alucard prepared for the road ahead. They were going to push forward, kill Dracula, and save both Wallachia and the world. _This is the Story, told just how you memorized growing up._

They would save the world together, the three of them, and then, after all of that, the Belmont Clan had to continue, there was just no way around it.

The pit in Sypha's stomach turned into a stone that settled there and made her ill. The Story spoke that the Scholar would join with the Hunter to continue the hunt after Dracula's fall. That could be open to interpretation, but it was very likely that after all of this... She looked up to glare at the back of Belmont's head once again: it was likely that she would have to bear that ugly bear's children. She got this far already, she would have to see it through to the end; she didn't really have a choice in the matter anymore. God  _ hated _ her, and this was the proof to show it.

...Suddenly, she realized that young Sypha was a goddamned _idiot_. 

* * *

 

Belmont wandered off to find something to drink, and Alucard brooded in the corner of the Speakers' hovel as Sypha's clan began their preparation to travel the countryside once again. They had only settled down to wait for Belmont, and now that their mission was complete, they were going on their way.

Sypha's stress-sickness was finally getting to her, despite the fact that the Speakers were the safest that had been in the past few months at least, and she found herself sitting on a box in the market, staring at her sandles and trying not to imagine her having to _settle down_ with that... that _drunken fool_. To stop traveling with her family and let that pissant, childish, _rude_ little... “Ohhhh!” she kicked at a rock in the dirt in frustration, imagining that it was Belmont's head. Just _watch_ that ugly, hairy brute try to _touch_ her, he'd get an icicle stuffed _way_ up where the sun didn't shine!! The sharper the _better_!

She watched as the rock tumbled through the dirt, and she pursed her lips, realizing just how childish she was being. Ugh, okay, calm down, don't think about what a rude, boorish man the last of the Belmonts was, because then she'd get angry again and then she'd swirl her robes in an attempt to look angrier and more intimidating...

She stopped when she saw the Speaker elder approach with a knowing, pitying smile on his face, and Sypha slid over on her box to allow him room. “My dear child,” her grandfather said, sitting down next to Sypha and cocking his head. “Is something the matter?”

Like he didn't _know_. He knew the Story as well! Sypha bit her lip and shook her head. “Ohhh, you know what it is, grandfather...!” She sighed in exasperation and crossed her arms. “I just... I hate feeling like this. I hate...” She gestured to nothing in particular. “All of this."

Her grandfather looked thoughtful as Sypha retreated back into her robes, and he looked serious as he replied. “Hate is a very strong emotion,” he said, not accusingly, “Is it the horde, or is it...” Sypha covered her face in her hands in exasperation, and the elder clucked his tongue in realization. The Speaker Magician was so embarrassed for her fear, too; she was ready and willing to throw herself into the jaws of Hell itself to save humanity, but of all the creatures in the universe it was  _ Trevor Belmont _ who made her skin crawl.

...After a moment of silence, the elder leaned in to look at her hands, which were still covering her face. “Sypha, my dear, I told you before: you don't have to do this.” He shook his head and lifted a hand, as if showing the entire expanse of the universe to her. “The Story shall be told, with or without you.”

The young Speaker dropped her hands and shook her head, her frown apparent. “I can't do that; the Story may eventually be told, but how long will it take until it can? How many other people will die?” She looked up at the elder, her eyebrows knit in determination, “I have to do it; I don't have a  _ choice _ .”

“There is  _ always _ a choice, my child,” the elder insisted, his frown creasing, “To believe otherwise would be to admit that Dracula had no choice in unleashing his hordes upon humanity. You are my beloved granddaughter, and you will  _ always _ have a choice, as long as you will it.” He took her shoulder, just like before, and she looked him in the eye as he swore to her that: “You do not have to do this.”

Sypha froze, startled by her grandfather's sincerity, and she finally, slowly, calmed herself down enough to consider his words. She hadn't considered how her words might apply to other people... And when she thought about it, hadn't she done so much already? All of her adventures thus far for the Story, and still she could turn back, at any time? The Story would be told, with or without her, at any point. That was what History  _ was, _ and the ability to choose your own Story was what made it as  _ alive _ as she.

Sypha whipped her head to look at her grandfather, her eyes burning with passion. “I hadn't even considered that, but you're right!” She held out her hands, and they trembled with giddy excitement. “I can follow the two of them; we'll defeat Dracula, we'll save the world, and I'll travel with him back home. Home to  _ you _ and the others.” And the Story will be told, and everything will be as it was told! She had a choice. She had a  _ choice, _ and it was the most precious, beautiful feeling in the world.

She suddenly became filled with joy, so much that she wrapped her arms around her grandfather and giggled like a child. “I have a choice! I have a  _ choice! _ Ahahaha!!”

“So your first 'choice' is to cling to people like a little girl and shout enough to wake the dead.” Sypha froze again as an annoyingly familiar voice snarked at her. Oh great, he came from upwind and she couldn't smell his approach. Her face was one of annoyance when she parted from the elder, and she turned to him with a scowl. Belmont was unaffected by her rueful expression, his lips pursed as he approached the Speakers. “You're off then?” Off to another city, as Speakers usually were.

“I'm not,” Sypha replied, standing up from the box. Trevor cocked an eyebrow at her decision to stay behind, and she shrugged in reply. “I mean, you didn't think I'd leave you and Alucard to fight Dracula on your own, do you?”

Now it was Trevor's turn to scowl; he looked like he had been served a plate of rancid steak. “Do we  _ have _ to bring that giant jackass?”

Sypha giggled in reply as the Speaker elder stood next to her, “Why, Belmont, are you just angry that he beat you?”

“He did not  _ beat me!” _ Trevor insisted loudly, as if shouting things made them truer. Sypha's laughter rang out true at his childish behavior, but she stopped when she saw how her grandfather was looking pointedly at her. Trevor blinked at the two of them as they silently exchanged an entire conversation with their shifting eyes that glanced and rolled every which way, including at him, and the Belmont scratched at his beard. “So what's happening here? Am I missing something?”

“Nothing so imperative, I assume,” Arn replied, approaching the gathered group as well. He turned to the elder and respectfully nodded. “Although we must be off. We're all ready, Elder.”

Sypha and her grandfather exchanged one more longing glance, and she gave him one last hug before they separated again. Her heart ached, for she knew that the moment their hands parted, there was a chance they would never join again. “I love you, Grandfather.”

“And I you, my child.” And Sypha's heart broke in two when he turned away from her. She knew that no one would love her the way her grandfather did, least of all the man standing next to her at that moment.

She even tried to give him the benefit of the doubt; surely, there must have been  _ something _ inside of him that was vaguely human and not just some horrifying beard elemental, so she didn't even shrug off his hand when he placed it on her shoulder, and she even spoke a few words to elicit a proper response. She was alone, now, without her family who loved her...

...The part where Trevor said that she wasn't alone eventually came and went, and Sypha's heart sank into her stomach, “I was right the first time,” she said, covering her depression with anger at her predicament, “You really are rude.”

“I've been called worse.”

“Ohhhhohohoho, I'm just getting  _ started.” _ _ You're an ugly, boorish, hairy pus-wart, fit only to roll and feed like a  _ pig! _ May Dracula  _ eat _ you just before we kill the monster! _

Her grandfather would have reprimanded her if he knew what vitriol she was spewing in her mind, but this was one of the few times she was glad the Speakers couldn't just transmit their Stories to each other instantaneously. This hatred might not have been very productive, but how  _ good _ it felt...!

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So like, this was all based off of the scene under Gresit, where Alucard asks if Sypha knew the whole Story, and she *blushes*. I always assumed that it was because she *knew* that further down the road, she was going to have to kiss a smelly bear man and come on, it doesn't matter how ruggedly hot Trevor is, he's *gross*, especially at the beginning!
> 
> Plus, there's the idea of people fighting their "fate", and prophecies tend to get a bad rap in media nowadays (I'm pretty sure that's why it's referred to as a "Story" instead), so like, I figure that I wanted to have Sypha be more at peace with the idea that this is *her* decision. That she *chose* Trevor by the end of Season 2, and didn't just let "prophecy" choose for her.
> 
> I might do more of these, of Sypha slowly beginning to warm up to Trevor and stuff, but I won't do nearly as much retreading of the actual story, I swear. If I do more, it'll be more just character study stuff and fluff and interactions.
> 
> And more Alucard, even though I feel like all I can do with him is make him a giant ass Hot Topic Teenager instead of some suave sex-master like every other fic assumes he is.


	2. Nightmares

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sypha knows that with a sufficient will, one can fight back against one's own nightmares. ...What she doesn't realize is how horrifying they can be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here it is! More of this stuff! I had a cold for like, a long time, so I was busy not doing much of anything but watching videos and Tetris matches and passing out in my bed, so this is shorter than I wanted it to be. To be fair, I feel that it's a lot better to be short and succinct, which is what this is. Hope you guys enjoy it!

_Sypha cradled the basket of vegetables in the crook of her arm, and she wiped at her brow with a sigh at a job well done. She was intensely proud of herself for finally managing to grow and harvest some actual crops. She had never thought in her life that she would stay in one place long enough to do so, but here she was, doing her best for the Story!_

_She almost forgot just why the Story needed her to sit in the back woods and_ settle down,  _but the clopping of hooves reminded her just why she was living here. She fought the wave of nausea from rising up in her stomach as the rancid smell of sweat, blood and alcohol assaulted her senses once again. At least the_ piss _was lost at that point._

“ _Hard at work I see,” Trevor slurred, fighting to keep from falling from his stallion. If his mount were a mare she would have bucked him off long ago for his idiocy._

_Sypha felt that, at that point, the mare would have been smarter than she, especially when he slumped to the floor and hacked so loudly it forced a belch from his innards. The Speaker tried to keep her wits about her and fight the sickness that welled in her stomach. “Sypha, dear, when's dinner?” Trevor grumbled, lurching forward before stumbling to one knee, “I've just finished a hunt, and you're going to deny me my just rewards?”_

_She refused to answer him when he was this way, and she turned away to walk to the house. This was just a dream, she knew this deep down. She was sleeping and she was dreaming of the future she assumed would happen in just a few years' time..._

_She froze when Trevor grasped at her free wrist, and she felt ill when he pulled her closer and hissed into her ear. “You aren't going to even speak to me, woman? Am I so hideous that you would avoid me as such!?”_

_No,_ Sypha thought to herself, struggling against her nightmare,  _I refuse to let my fears govern my mind!_

_She wrenched her wrist free and whirled around, slamming the back of her hand into her “husband's” jaw, and her strength of will sent him to the ground as easily as if he were a child. “Brute!” she shouted loudly, standing as tall as she could as the boy trembled on the ground and cowered before her divine majesty. “Monster! Filth!” She raised her hand to strike him again, “Curse your birth, wretched creature!”_

_The boy, a tiny child barely teenage, raised his hand and sobbed openly. “No! Please, no! Please!!” and Sypha halted, confused. She looked down at her hand and wondered why she had a rosary wrapped around her fist. Why she was wearing the robes of a priest of the Church. Why she could feel flames licking at her neck and hair..._

_She turned away from the child, stared up at the blazing inferno that was his home, and she looked upon what she had wrought with horror._

He's lost family too,  _ Her grandfather spoke through the crackle of the flames, and the woman fell to her knees in despair, _ and he doesn't wish that same fate on others.

_Sypha clutched at her head, her emotions a tempest. What did this vision even mean? What was the_ point _in showing it to her? This was her dream, her thoughts, her nightmares, and_ this _was what was going on in her head? "Tell me!" she shouted into the void as the world melted away. "What do you_ want _from me!?"_

\---

Sypha snapped awake, a gasp erupting from her lips. Alucard glanced in her direction, his golden eyes bright in the light of the slowly dying fire. The Speaker sat up, wiping at the sweat on her brow, and she looked at the dhampir, still shaky and unsure of what was reality or not. She looked back at her lap to calm her trembling hands, and after a moment to collect her bearings, she glanced back at Alucard and tried to smile reassuringly. “I'm fine... it was just a bad dream.”

“Mmm,” Alucard replied, turning back to the fire. Sypha still wasn't sure what to make of the dhampir. He didn't seem to sleep a lot, which was a boon for both Trevor and her, as it was nice to have someone to watch the fire while they slept. She looked around their makeshift camp, and saw that Trevor had fallen to the floor, his neck resting at an awkward angle. He had clearly passed out, and Sypha gave his form a confused squint. They didn't have any alcohol, how in the heavens did he pass out drunk...? 

Sensing Sypha's bemusement, Alucard elaborated, “Belmont refused to go to sleep. He was certain I would murder you both in your sleep if he did. ...We had a staring match about an hour ago.” The two stared at the crumpled up fool, who would definitely be waking up with a still-sleeping arm and a pulled neck muscle. “...I won,” the dhampir admitted, as if she couldn't intuit that on her own.

Sypha groaned as she stood, blinking the sleep from her eyes. “If you leave him like that, he's going to wake up with a cramp and complain the rest of the day,” she muttered, already done with the day, and it hadn't even begun yet, technically.

“And yet if I try to move him, he'd most likely wake up and attempt to stake me,” Alucard replied, sounding just as done with everything as Sypha was. The Speaker rolled her eyes and shuffled off to the back of the wagon, dragging out a second robe that was given to her by her people (so she'd actually have a change of clothes, something that her companions could stand to consider). She then moved to toss it over the hunter as a makeshift blanket. Thankfully, Trevor subconsciously got the hint, snorted in his sleep, and flopped onto his stomach, no longer cutting off the circulation to his arm. He'd probably still have a cramp in his neck, but at least one problem was solved.

With a huff, Sypha then circled the firepit and sat herself next to Alucard, who gave her a look. She returned it flatly. “...What?” she asked, clearly not in the mood.

Alucard looked away, either in boredom or embarrassment. It was hard to tell with him, so Sypha just chalked it up to both. “Nothing,” he conceded, staring at the embers of the low fire. The two sat in silence for a moment, until the dhampir spoke up. “Are you going back to sleep?”

Sypha drew her robes closer around her, a frown on her face. “In a bit. I'm kinda... I dunno.” She thought she was in control of her emotions, but clearly she wasn't quite there yet. No wonder her grandfather would have reprimanded her. “What about you? I can keep watch for a bit.”

Alucard's eyes didn't leave the fire. “I've slept enough this year,” he said, his expression unreadable, and Sypha dropped the subject immediately. She still wasn't sure just how to speak to him just yet, and she decided that, for now, she didn't need to.

The two spent a quiet moment watching the fire, their minds far from the present, as Sypha looked back to the past and Alucard focused instead on the future.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So how do you like Alucard? I personally started this out not knowing what to do with him, but after speaking with friends and stuff and really trying to dig into a lot of his quirks and stuff, I think I have a fairly decent showing for him. As I said previously, he's more of a Hot Topic Teen than anyone suave or cool, so if you don't like awkward, dorky Al then I dunno know what to tell you, whoops!
> 
> ...I hope, for what it's worth, that if you don't view him as such, I still make him a little interesting and *mysterious* nyoron or whatever. <3


	3. Animosity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sypha feels trapped in the middle of two children who can't let their pride fall by the wayside and work together for a common goal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEY GUYS I'M ALIVE.
> 
> Weather was annoying and I was tired and angry, and I wanted to update my other fic first, since it's a little more near and dear to my heart than this, but as I've mentioned before, I really do enjoy doing these vignettes, and let's be honest, ever since Season 2 came out, there haven't been enough "on the road to Dracula's Castle" fics anymore, so here we go!

Sypha was right: Belmont had awoken with an aching neck that caused him to complain the entire time that the three tore down their camp and prepared to get on the road again. No one brought up the fact that although the two mortals had fallen asleep sometime during the night, everyone was still alive, despite the Belmont's insistence that Alucard would devour them the moment he got the opportunity. The dhampir glowered knowingly at Trevor from the back of the wagon, but Sypha's pleading glance caused him to hold his tongue at that point.

Sypha and Trevor sat up front, as any driver needed a co-pilot in case something happened to scare the horses, while Alucard preferred to sit at the back of the wagon and stare out over the expanse; after getting accosted by the raiding party to Arges, the young dhampir refused to not at least keep watch. “They're called 'night hordes' for a reason,” Trevor muttered from the back with a huff, “They're not going to come out in the day!”

“It's not my father's army I'm  _ worried _ about,” Alucard insisted matter-of-factly, making the hunter sneer in reply. It wasn't really hard to tell what Alucard was mentioning, and why it rankled the Belmont the way it did.

“Alright, you two, could you at least save the fighting until after morning has passed?” Sypha asked as she held the reins and urged the horses on towards the city.

“You make it sound as if you're asking us not to drink,” Trevor grumbled, rubbing at his sore neck. Sypha gave the Belmont a look, and he rolled his eyes at her expression before the three fell into an uneasy silence, the rocking of the wagon and the clopping of the horse's hooves being the only sound for a very long time.

Which was why, even though Alucard was nearly silent, the moment he looked up and stood from his perch on the back, everyone in the wagon could hear it, and Trevor looked back so Sypha could keep the horses from getting worried. “What's going on?” the Belmont insisted with a growl.

“Go on ahead,” Alucard replied cryptically, “I'll catch up later,” and before the two mortals could ask what he meant by that, the half-vampire hopped off the wagon and disappeared into the trees.

“Are you seriou- Alucard!!” Trevor shouted, standing from his seat up front. Sypha let out a shout and nearly stopped the horses there as the wagon rocked suddenly.

“Trevor, sit down! You'll startle the horses!”

“They could use a good startle,” Trevor insisted right back, grabbing the top of the wagon cover to steady himself as he scanned the treeline. Sypha let out a frustrated groan, throwing a hand up as if to say “is this really the time?”

It was  _ completely _ the time, apparently. Trevor was like a tense cat, ready and waiting to spring into combat with an imaginary foe, only Sypha assumed this supposed foe wasn't so imaginary to Trevor. “Trevor, please, sit down. What in the world has you so riled up?”

The hunter clutched at his head as if the Speaker's questions gave him a migraine, and he gestured to the woods to make a point. “A goddamn vampire has just thrown himself into the woods for no reason, and tells us to  _ keep going _ as if nothing's wrong? He's leading us into a trap, Sypha!” Trevor turned to glance ahead, as if there was a checkpoint of vampire generals just  _ waiting _ to leap out and eat them all.

Sypha couldn't believe what she was hearing. She wanted to stop the horses just so she could have a talk with the hunter while looking him in the eye, but if she stopped she'd be unintentionally giving the hunter exactly what he wanted, and she wasn't going to prove him right, especially when he was acting like a child. “Trevor, the sun's high in the sky, there are no vampires about, and there are no night creatures. You're being paranoid!”

Trevor's pout looked to be sculpted from marble, it was so archetypically ideal, and the hunter grumbled something about humans should be sticking together. “You know, that doesn't mean that he couldn't have set up his own traps. He's faster and stronger than the both of us combined. I don't know how you can trust a blood-sucker so easily, but you're going to get us both killed if you keep that up.”

Sypha's delighted smile went unnoticed by Trevor as he continued to scan the treeline. For someone that hated Alucard so much, he still gave the man the proper respect he deserved; that was something that meant that Trevor hadn't written the half-vampire off completely yet. There was respect, but there was also fear. Trevor, despite all his bravado, didn't care one whit about the Story from the Future; no wonder he didn't trust Alucard to be anything but the monster the Belmont was told the half-vampire would be.

Just as she was about to point out this fact as gently as she could, the two heard a rustling in the trees, and Alucard hopped back out of the treeline as pleased as a cat who had just gotten into the milk pail, only this time it was because he had a rabbit in his teeth; he had sunk his fangs into the brown creature's neck and drained it dry before he hopped up on the back of the wagon and held the drained corpse out for the two humans. “My apologies, I hadn't heard anything for quite a while, so I didn't want to let it get away. I was awfully thirsty,” the dhampir explained calmly, placing the body on the bed of the wagon.

...Trevor slowly sat back down as Sypha finally stopped the horses so the two humans could turn around and look at the drained carcass. “...You killed it and drank its blood,” Trevor said, as if it were a question.

“Would you prefer I drained one of you, instead?” Alucard asked, as if to prove a point. Trevor shot his head up and snarled, and if it weren't for Sypha placing a hand on his arm, he might have actually gone for his whip right there.

Sypha leveled with Trevor, their eyes meeting, and the Speaker frowned, “It wasn't a good joke, Trevor, I know, but you know, deep down, that he's not our enemy.” Her words caused the hunter to pause, and he brushed off the scholar's hand so he could turn away and try not to look like he was pouting. He failed, but it was the thought that counted.

...and that left Alucard and his “offering”. The half-vampire had turned away, possibly from hearing their conversation, but Sypha wanted desperately for this Story to happen. She knew it would, she  _ believed,  _ but it was hard to get the others to see that as well. Alucard was part of this group, part of this Story, and Sypha wanted to show that she understood it more than anyone else. “Thank you for thinking of us, Alucard,” she offered gently, gauging the brooding soldier's reaction to her words. “It's been a while since we had something fresh.”

“Except it'll be dry as shit, because he  _ drained it of blood _ and all,” Trevor grumbled, low enough that a human probably wouldn't have heard it from across the wagon.

Alucard was not a full human, and he turned to look sullenly at the front of the wagon. “For someone who hates 'blood-suckers' so much, you sure do prefer eating bloody meats a lot. Is there something you're not telling us about you and your  _ black magician family, _ Belmont?”

Trevor let out an infuriated howl and twisted to slide onto the wagon bed and strangle the smug asshole himself. “Oh, that  _ does it! _ Come over here and let me beat the ever-living-”

Sypha had to grab the Belmont's arm and tug on him to get him back down to earth, and he paused for only a moment when he felt her hand on him. “Trevor,  _ please, _ do you really want to do this, after what we all decided in Gresit?”

Her words seemed to give Trevor cause to remember where he was, despite his rage. Sypha was right: of all the things to fight, of all the things to want to kill... Alucard wasn't one of them. He finally settled down back on the seat with a sneer at the disinterested dhampir, and Sypha finally felt she could take a relieved breath before sitting back down herself and taking the reins in her hands.

The rest of the journey that day was quiet, but incredibly tense. No one spoke a word for a long while, and the poor rabbit corpse was left on the wagon bed without even a thought given to preparing it for that night. Sypha pursed her lips, hating the way her stomach twisted into knots. Was this what she had to look forward to, this whole time? Story or no, was it possible that the two men, no, the two  _ boys _ would ruin any chance they had of victory because they were too busy having pissing matches over which of them was “better”? Why couldn't they see how much they needed each other to work together...? Her mind said it would be a long, arduous uphill battle, but her heart reminded her that the Story hadn't been wrong so far. She just had to believe.

She heard Trevor let out a frustrated grumble, and she turned to see him scratching at his beard in annoyance. The Speaker frowned; he didn't  _ get _ to be frustrated at the situation,  _ he _ was the one acting like a child!

...and yet, Alucard wasn't a shining beacon of good graces either. She could understand why the hunter had nearly leapt at the opportunity to smash the warrior's head in, and the scholar took a moment to choose her words carefully. “I... I know it doesn't mean much, coming from me, but I'm happy you're here. We really couldn't do this without you.”

Trevor scoffed, but didn't sneer. “Well obviously. Are you going to admit it to your vampire savior or are you only going to say it when it won't hurt his feelings?”

Sypha's sigh was belabored, but she didn't deny that she hadn't stood up for him when he figured he needed it the most, so... “Story or no, Trevor Belmont, we are probably the best that Wallachia, and all of humanity, has when it comes to stopping Dracula, and I am not too prideful to admit that none of us can do it without the aid of the other two, and Alucard has done nothing but assist us this entire time. You've seen him in battle: whether he's doing it because cares for our cause or not, he  _ wants _ to stop his father, and that means he's our ally.”

“For now,” Trevor pointed out pragmatically.

...Sypha went quiet, realizing there was no delicate way of putting this. She could either admit to Trevor that she trusted in Alucard more than the Belmont's intuition, or she could hurt the dhampir's feelings as he undoubtedly listened in against his will; curse those vampirical senses, she was stuck between a rock and a hard place with this coming response.

...It wasn't a decision she made lightly when she took a deep breath and turned to the hunter with a resigned nod. “Yes, for now. I do not believe he will turn on us the moment we've 'outlived our usefulness', however.” Another scoff came from the Belmont, and Sypha almost,  _ almost, _ scoffed in time. She saw that reaction coming a mile away. “Trevor, please, listen to me and understand, there's a certain degree of trust that we can stand to give to him. He's our comrade in arms, and let's be honest...” Sypha let out a halfhearted chuckle and a shrug, “...if you can't trust your own comrades, then who  _ can _ you trust?”

It was like a switch turned on within the Belmont, and the man tensed up horribly, turning away with such an angry, snarling visage that the Speaker realized instantly that she had said the wrong words to placate him, and she turned to focus on the road, the pit of despair settling in her stomach with such a painful throb that she almost choked on the bile that rose up in her throat. She knew what that response meant. _“Who can I trust? No one. Not a single soul in this world.”_

...No one spoke a word to each other the rest of the day.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope I got Sypha's frustration through; the facepalm in the Belmont Hold really was all that needed to be shown to see just how annoyed she was with their constant back and forth. She couldn't even say anything, because, as we've established in this chapter, saying something to either of them would make the boys both think that she's taking sides. There just really isn't a winning situation with this... well... situation.
> 
> (Cute fact, I originally wanted to put in a line where Alucard presented the rabbit "the way a cat would present a dead bird to his humans", but didn't want to use a cat analogy twice, and using *two* animal analogies would make him sound like he was less than human, which is 100% *not* the case at all. I thought it was a cute line though, so I didn't want to just delete it from existence forever, so here it is for all of us to giggle over!)
> 
> Hope you enjoyed this chapter! Have a nice day everyone! <3


	4. Respite

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The three stop at a small farmstead, and Sypha tries to coax a smile out of Alucard. It doesn't go as planned, and perhaps with good reason.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EYYYYYYYYYYY sorry this took so long but life has a way of kicking everyone in the gut, and also we've been preparing an event at our school and it's just- yeah, you get it.
> 
> Anyway, here's Sypha making a mistake, and Trevor attempting to rectify his. Maybe. It's hard to tell with him sometimes.

The tiny caravan arrived close to Arges by dusk, and the three knew that it was best not to go into the city proper, what with having an excommunicated drunkard, a “heathen” Speaker, and a very obvious vampirical creature among them. Therefore, when Sypha stopped for supplies, it was by a small farmstead far on the outskirts of the city. The moment the horses stopped, Trevor hopped off of the wagon and stalked off.

Sypha called out to him, but before she could ask, he waved her off with an explanation: “I'm just going to see how much I can get for these rabbit feet and pelt.” If there was something a bunch of superstitious farmers needed when the end of the world was coming at them, it was luck. With any “luck”, they had two kids and he could sell all four of them off for each of them.

Sypha stared after him incredulously. “Are you serious? You just skinned it! Aren't you supposed to tan it? Let the feet dry out?”

“Look, do you want to eat, or not?” Trevor asked, whirling around on his foot to hold out the items in question. Sypha pursed her lips, but didn't say anything in reply, and the Belmont turned back around to clomp off towards the house.

The Speaker sighed as she moved to collect some water from the well and unhitch the horses. It wouldn't do to have them eating all of the farmer's crops, so she nickered at them as she pushed their heads toward a nice field off to the side of the road. It was a blessing that there was no one else on the road and the grass was plentiful, but it only served to remind the Scholar that there was a reason no one was traveling: she wished fervently that it was because they were holed up in their homes, scared, and not actually  _ dead. _

She had to refill the bucket a few times so the horses had enough water between them, and while she worked, she glanced at the back of the wagon, almost ready to call out to Alucard; it wasn't like he could  _ help _ her or anything, of course not...! But she paused when she noticed that the dhampir hadn't even moved since they arrived. She squinted; if she didn't know any better, she'd say he hadn't moved a muscle,  _ literally. _ ...That was pretty impressive, to be quite honest.

When the horses were sufficiently watered and happily chomping away at the grass, Sypha moved to the back of the wagon and sat on the back lip with a soft sigh. She glanced at Alucard, and pursed her lips when she saw that his eyes were glazed over, like he was looking at anything but what was in front of him.

They were there for a long while, completely silent. Sypha kicked her feet against the wagon and glanced back at Alucard, who still hadn't moved. Finally, the Speaker looked up at him. “I don't think you really want to talk, but... I dunno, maybe I can help listen, just a bit.”

Alucard sucked in a breath, shakily, and his eyes refocused before settling on Sypha. “Oh. Yes.” He took another breath, through his nose, steady, and looked away. “I... I am afraid it would not be very helpful. Besides. We're not here to become  _ friends. _ This arrangement is only until we stop my father and save humanity.”

Sypha opened her mouth, but she realized what the underlying meaning was. Alucard was thinking of his father, of course he was. Who wouldn't be? She had never grown up with her father, but she knew that if she was forced to kill her grandfather, she would be  _ beside _ herself with despair. ...which meant that Alucard was probably  _ dying _ inside.

She took a deep breath and looked back at the dhampir, an empathetic smile on her face. “Alucard. There is something my grandfather told me. You mustn't feel like you have to do this. The Story speaks of the Soldier, but we are all masters of our  _ own _ Stories. Alucard, you  _ don't _ have to do this.”

The dhampir let out a sigh like Sypha was a child who could not possibly understand. “I thank you for the attempt, but that's not true at all. I  _ don't _ have a choice. There's nothing I can do but finish my father's ill-conceived war.”

“But you  _ do _ have a choice,” Sypha insisted, “I believe in the Story's relevance and the part you play in it, but I also know that everyone has a choice in how our Stories are told.” She remembered her grandfather, telling her that if this was all preordained, that if they didn't have a choice in their path, then it meant that there was nothing that Dracula could have done; that all of this death and wanton slaughter was somehow  _ good,  _ and Sypha refused to believe that was true. So she squared her shoulders and looked up at the dhampir, remembering what her grandfather told her. “The Story can be told, with or without you, Alucard. If you truly do not wish to go through with it, then Trevor and I will go on our own. The Story will provide a different Soldier.” ...At least that's what she  _ assumed _ would happen if someone abandoned a Future Story. She wasn't entirely sure that had ever happened before.

Alucard turned and finally met her eyes. Sypha had hoped that Alucard might scoff, or roll his eyes, or hell, even cock an eyebrow, but his face was completely set in stone; he wasn't even reacting to her at all, not until he finally sucked in a breath and asked: “So what about the Story after you and Belmont have finished your crusade? Can  _ you _ go through with the rest of it?”

Sypha  _ might _ have realized that Alucard was deflecting the Speaker's attempts to help, but she was so caught off by the dhampir's own question that she dropped her head and looked away. “It's not like that- I just- if we work together- It's just that-”

Alucard looked away again, his sigh one of simple annoyance. “Did you think I would only hear the beginning of your peoples' 'Future Story' and not the end? 'The Scholar and the Hunter shall travel together', was it?” He took a deep breath, his frown creasing his face. He shook his head and let the thought hang in the air.

Sypha pursed her lips; she wasn't used to verbally sparring with people who weren't her own Speakers and therefore accepted the Story as basically fact. Having someone turn things around at her was definitely not what she was used to, and she had to snap herself out of her own thoughts to remind herself of what her grandfather had told her back in Gresit. “Yes, the Scholar and the Hunter shall travel together. I can do that; I know I can. He'll take me to my train, and there we can part ways.” She turned away and shrugged her shoulders as she considered everything. “He's showed compassion to my plight, in his own, strange way.”

Alucard turned to look at Sypha, giving her a  _ look,  _ and the Speaker rolled her eyes. It was like the one her grandfather gave her, and it made her groan. “The point is that even if I'm following the Story, I'll be following it in a way  _ I _ choose.” She shrugged lightly, and the scholar turned to the soldier, giving him a catlike smile. “Who knows, maybe the Story meant a particularly worldly prostitute when it mentioned that the Hunter and Scholar would continue the Belmont Legacy.”

 

...

...

 

Alucard _stared_ at Sypha as the Speaker gave a soft, awkward chuckle. She rolled her shoulders, as if to ask “get it?” But Alucard, once again, didn't make a move. The two looked at each other for several seconds, until the dhampir finally spoke up, “Well then, if I am to be the master of my own destiny, I suppose I will say that I could never forgive myself if I did not at least try to do what Mother would have wanted from me.” This was all about his pride in his family, his mother as well as his father, and he expressed it further by explaining that: “the thought of letting a _Belmont_ pick up the pieces of my family’s failed legacy is something I cannot allow.”

Sypha giggled at the joke, her smile bright... until she realized that Alucard wasn't joking at all; his frown was still deep and creased, looking for all the world like a statue: unfeeling and unmoving. ...It might have been beautiful if not for the fact that she knew he was doing this to lock away the tumultuous sadness that seemed deep and never-ending. She had hoped that this talk might get him to open up, but the way he turned aside and closed himself off once again... it showed Sypha that he wasn't willing to speak further on that or any matter.

Sypha dropped her head, biting her lip and shrugging lightly. “I'm sorry,” she said sincerely, “for intruding. I know that things have been... I shouldn't have tried to make light of the situation. Just know that I'll be here if you ever need me. I hope you always know that.” She almost was going to mention that Trevor would be too, but she wasn't sure that was entirely true at this point...

Speak of the devil and he will come, as they say, for at that moment the Belmont was clomping back towards the wagon with his hand wrapped around the neck of a live rooster. When Sypha gave him a bemused look, he shot a look back at her. “The farmer couldn't give up any hens,” he explained, as if that was all that was needed. He then gestured to the bird in his hand with a huff, “But this rooster's getting on in years and they have another cock that just hit maturity, so-”

Sypha snorted in a rather unladylike fashion, prompting a look from Trevor. “Hah, I get it,” he deadpanned before turning to Alucard and holding up the nigh-strangled rooster in a way that he wasn't all too pleased with their arrangement. “It's for the bloodsucker. So he doesn't just wander off all the time. We have a schedule to keep, you know.”

“I told you to keep going,” Alucard replied pettishly, eyeing the fowl with a frown, “It was _you_ who wanted to stop.”

“Look, just- here. The bird's still- dammit!” Trevor cursed when the rooster began flapping from fear, given the sudden spike in tension, and the hunter had to tuck it under his arm before continuing. “The bird's still alive, I figured you preferred it that way. Just- just take it, okay? Sypha and I can eat what's left.” Sypha's eyebrow quirked, and the Belmont frowned at her. “Well, not the _feathers_ , obviously. You know what I mean!”

That wasn't necessarily what the scholar was thinking of, and she shook her head in bewilderment as the hunter rambled on. She was more surprised at the fact that Trevor had specifically gone out of his way to hand off charms and furs to trade, and got something _for_ Alucard to eat? That wasn't at all what she had expected, given how much the two were at each others' throats. She couldn't tell if he was warming up to the dhampir or if he honestly just wanted them to get to the Belmont Manse faster.

Either way, the sheer domesticity of the scene - with a scowling man hugging a soon to be eaten rooster under his arm - was cause to give even Alucard a moment to pause, and Sypha's eyes sparkled as the dhampir rolled his eyes and hopped off of the wagon. “I don't need to be fed table scraps like a  _dog,_ Belmont.”

“Yeah, because even a dog isn't as _pissy_ as you are.” Trevor checked the bird to make sure it had calmed down before he offered it to the dhampir. “Just... do whatever you do with these things, so we can all get on with our lives.”

It definitely wasn't the best way to offer a gift, the way the hunter thrust the rooster into the soldier's hands and stormed off so he wouldn't see Alucard bite into the bird before it could claw at him... but the thought that all three of them were beginning to consider that they had to all work as a team if the Story was going to be fulfilled...

_...Perhaps,_ she hoped as she dropped from the wagon and moved to help Trevor hitch up the horses, leaving Alucard to secretly enjoy the farm fresh rooster blood by his lonesome,  _perhaps we're going to be okay._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So basically this chapter was my attempt at considering what Sypha was specifically referring to when she talked about Alucard's "deep sadness". She mentions to Trevor that she can tease him and get a reaction, but Alucard's was more of an "icy well", which implied that she tried to tease Alucard at some point and it didn't go so well.
> 
> I know that, kinda sorta, having her try to poke and prod a guy who's mourning his mom *and* a future without a dad is kinda really bad, but I mean, never let it be said that Sypha was perfect, not even in my stories :V
> 
> I'm unsure if I'll continue much more; I mean, from here it's like, the Belmont Hold and at that point do you *really* want a retread of Season 2? Come on, you lazybones, just rewatch it, it's not that hard.
> 
> but if inspiration strikes or if people REALLY want to have wistful longing glances in an underground library I'll *consider* writing fluff ugh what are we 12? :V


End file.
